I
know a few people who secretly started to listen to Christmas music
before Thanksgiving day. Some, like myself, consider this a serious
breach of an unwritten code. A crime. An offensive decision. But for
those who follow the rules, after that glorious meal, there is nothing
as satisfying as Christmas music floating though the house when washing
the mile-high stack of cranberry-stained dishes. As Amy Grant’s Immanuel belts out, my sister starts in sync at the top of her lungs...Wonderful, Counselor, Lord of Life, Lord of all, He is the Prince of Peace, Mighty God, Holy One....Im-m-a-an-u-el, Immanuel.
The sounds of these songs are magical; we can’t quite wear them out.
For one month we press repeat on the songs that tell the story of the
holidays: family gathering around the table, presents under the tree,
chestnuts roasting, snow falling, mistletoe, turkey and a baby born in
Bethlehem...the memories bubble up in my mind with each song.
Then
there’s the other part of Christmas--bags in hand, bustling about in
shopping centers and malls, sitting for hours online scouring for
sales...hopeful for just the right find for someone, and crafting a long
list of the particular things we all want. The economy breathes it all
in with one big, Grinch-like smile. For those who wander around in the
scramble, it takes an intentional awareness to notice these same songs
whispering through the speakers in Dick’s Sporting Goods, Eddie Bauer,
or Marshall’s. Hark the herald angels sing glory to the new born
King...Silent night, holy night, Son of God, loves pure light...The
hopes and fears of all the years, are met in Thee tonight...
Ironic.
Hovering over us as we race and rush are the songs that beckon us to
worship. At no other time EVER do shoppers hear lyrics so boldly
proclaiming Jesus as God, as Savior, as Messiah. The story of Christmas
gets hijacked by the sales and sparkle of the season. Jesus is just
another magical element, much like our stockings...hung by the chimney with care.
Yesterday
I pulled out of Dilworth Coffee with Elgin’s fluffed Cafe O’ Le in hand
and hit the highway from Matthews, NC to Media, PA. 8.3 hours. My eyes
took in every beautiful landscape along the drive through Virginia and
along the farmlands of Pennsylvania. At points I saw some flurries,
caught up with an old friend on the phone and snacked on some sweet
holiday treats from my students. I never mind this road trip. My mind is
still, undistracted and attentive. The Christmas break travel is
especially invigorating with the cold, gray skies, the warm drinks, and
the Christmas music that inspires me to sing like Julie Andrews at the
top of my lungs!
And as I sing,
I listen...
Some lyrics bring tears to my eyes. Pure poetry, rich in theology and a reminder of what we revere.
At
times I imagine the malls, highways, and food stores going into
lockdown mode, everyone’s feet glued in place, stuck. All conversation
stopped, all registers closed, all lights dimmed, total silence...except
the songs of Christmas...
...No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as, the curse is found...
...Hail, the heaven-born Prince of peace!
Hail the Son of righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
Risen with healing in his wings.
Mild he lays his glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King...
...Silent night! Holy night!
Son of God love's pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord at thy birth...
...Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long
Beneath the heavenly strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong
And man at war with man hears not
The tidings which they bring
O hush the noise, ye men of strife
And hear the angels sing
O ye, beneath life's crushing load
Whose forms are bending low
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing
O rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing
For lo, the days are hastening on
By prophets seen of old
When with the ever-circling years
Shall come the time foretold
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing...
...O Holy Night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt it's worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morning
Fall on your knees, O hear the angels’ voices
O night, divine...
A
Savior has been born. He has come to take away the curse of sin and the
despair in meaningless living. Every twisted act of violence, every
selfish obsession with money, every misplaced affection, every demanding
and controlling intention, every racist response, every prideful root,
all idolatry of children, stuff, power, physical beauty, all envy,
strife, anger, passivity, laziness, workaholic lifestyle, dismissal of
the Sabbath, covetousness and the love of self rather than love of God.
God came as an infant. He came poor, helpless and hated. He came to
rescue us and resurrect us from our lives of hopelessness and
self-absorption. There is a sad truth in all of this, even for those who
know Him. The malls are much like our Christian homes. We love
the holidays but forget about the Christ. We move fast and eat a whole
bunch, we buy gifts and blast the music while we cook and laugh and
sing. Our table is set and our gifts perfectly wrapped...all to
celebrate a King we never mention.
Christmas comes around each
year, and each year we push Him to the side. We feel good to feed the
homeless but are terrible at prayer. It’s awkward and serious to put Him
in the middle of it all.The results are profound, and though subtle,
powerful: greed, high expectations on family members, an increase in the
numbing effects of materialism, disappointment when we don’t get what
we want, debt, tension, apathy, selfishness, distraction, busyness...
He comes to make His blessings known, far as the curse is found...
O ye, beneath life's crushing load
Whose forms are bending low
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow
It’s
no different today than in the days of old. A Savior had come to a
world that would reject Him. And we still do. We choose darkness over
light. We choose stuff over Him. But He is the gift, and just as God
said to Abraham in Genesis, “I AM your great reward,” Jesus tells us to
stop and consider Him. He is the reward. He is the gift we long for. He
is the only balm for our grasping souls. He makes all crooked things
straight. He makes streams flow in the desert. He finds the one lost
sheep. He raises the dead. He heals, listens, cares, redeems, He fills
us with bottomless joy ...A baby born with a mission to find us in our
toiling, give us direction in our waywardness and peace in our angst.
Above all, Isaiah prophesied about Christmas this way:
The people who walk in darkness will see a great light; those who live in a dark land, the light will shine on them. Is 9:2
Stop
as if your feet are glued to the ground. Force it. Wait and listen. Be
still and pray by yourself, even if just in the shower. Better yet, lead
your children to the manger where true life is found. He will fill them
up more than an American girl doll, an Xbox, or the coolest trendy
clothes.
It’s dark out, help them find Him.
Help them hear the message of Christmas...
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices...
